


Sentimental Confessions

by asylumsession



Series: OC Oneshots [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-21 22:38:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11954133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asylumsession/pseuds/asylumsession
Summary: In which Alfred steels his courage.





	Sentimental Confessions

**Author's Note:**

> A very, very late Valentine's gift for my friend. Also, lots of inside jokes. A very sentimental, uncharacteristically cheesy Alfred expressing his feelings to a very dumbfounded, blushing Vesna. Alfred comes at her with cheesy pickup lines, and Vesna isn't sure what goes on in his head after that.

"When we're done tonight, you'll be seeing more stars than my flag!"

Vesna promptly shuts the door in Alfred's face.

Alfred screeches and swings his foot into the crack between the door and the door frame in an attempt to prevent this, but only succeeds in having his foot closed in a door. He's forced to yank it back because he doesn't doubt Vesna's ability to close the door on his foot completely.

"Ves,  _please,_  I swear I love God and I didn't mean it, so let me in already! This is like, super important, y'know?"

"What are you, a nun?" The door opens a crack and her half irritated, jade isle eyes peer out. "No more pickup lines. I think Cast has  _everyone_  covered on that front."

"Okay, okay, no more pickup lines!" Alfred steps back and holds both hands up in surrender. "And technically it's a monk. Or a friar. 'Cause I'm a dude. I hope."

"Alfred, stop talking. Just swear you won't use any more pickup lines."

"Dead Poet's honor!"

"Alfred F. Jones _,_  you  _know_ how not okay that is."

As cheerful as he acts, Alfred's stomach decides it wants to be an acrobat and lurches violently. For the first time, he's very glad he didn't eat before he came. So maybe there is a  _chance_  he'll completely wreck their friendship and then never have even the slightest chance with her again, or maybe she won't want to be his friend period - which he can understand because that will just be  _awkward_  - but then he'll probably just cry himself into a void and  _honestly_  what even are human emotions-

(Alfred decides this isn't the time to go have an existential crisis and he actually really can't breathe at this point, so he shuts down that train of thought.)

Vesna closes the door again and Alfred drops his hands, a bit discouraged. But then he hears Vesna's chain lock rattling as she undoes it and he straightens up, a weight lifting from his chest. On the bright side, he can breathe again. On the downside, he's  _freaking out._

(Briefly, Alfred actually finds the time to remember the time he was playing hockey with Mattie and his brother had knocked his feet right out from under him so hard that he swore he'd seen Hades. He was very proud of Matthew that day, and now he rather wishes he could go back to those simpler times when he  _wasn't_  madly in love with a Slovenian girl who is now opening her door  _shit-_ )

Oh God, a shoulder. Two shoulders. With  _freckles._ Alas, there is no chance of him ever focusing now.

Okay, so maybe he'd been a bit of a feminist in high school (and maybe he still is one), but he decides that's irrelevant at the moment because his attention is drawn to Vesna and her freckled shoulders and messy bun of red velvet hair. She looks tired and he really hope that doesn't do anything to her mood, because he's fully prepared to spill his heart out.

Alfred is not going to lie; frankly, he's terrified. He's never felt so strongly towards a girl and he really doesn't know how to handle this.

Vesna steps away from the door and Alfred takes that as his invitation to come inside. She walks towards the living room – oh,  _damn_ , she's wearing shorts and sweet mother Theresa on the hood of a Mercedes Benz her  _legs –_  and Alfred shuts the door quietly behind him before he follows her.  _Alfred F. Jones, you're about to confess your love; it is_ not _the time to get a boner._

 _"_ Okay," said Vesna, dropping down on her couch and then fixing him with a look, "now would you so kindly inform me as to why you've chosen to come to my house at about  _three in the morning?_ "

Alfred realizes he probably should have considered that tiny factor.

"Well, uh, you see, funny story," he laughs nervously and rubs the back of his neck. "I decided I couldn't wait to tell you anymore and I was losing sleep over it anyways so I figured hey, why not just head over right now a-and... I may or may not have completely disregarded the fact that it was three A.M...?"

"Speak with conviction, Al. Anyways, what the hell could have been so important that  _you_  were losing sleep over it? I mean, you sleep like death, Alfred," she points out.

Alfred doesn't pause to wonder how she knows that. "W-Well, uh- I mean, it's getting hot in here,"  _so take off all your clothe- shutupshutupshutup,_  "isn't it? Ha, l-like, is there anything I can get you? Water or a Dr. Pepper or-?"

"Alfred."

"Y-Yep?"

"This is  _my_  house, remember?"

Oh, well now he probably sounds stupid. Okay, then he supposes it's time to put on his game face. Alfred takes a deep breath and drops down to sit on the edge of the couch farthest from Vesna, just in case she wants her space.

"Okay, I'm serious now," he swallows heavily, noting the way her expression changes when his voice does. He's still nervous – oh,  _God,_  is he nervous – but he knows he needs to get this off his chest and he wants her to know.

Vesna pulls her legs up to her chest and wraps her arms around them, resting her chin on her knees. Alfred takes another deep breath and decides to just plow through this.  _Speak with conviction, Al._

"I decided I needed to tell you this. I've kept it to myself for a while now, because I didn't want to ruin our friendship or anything because I honestly don't think I could live with the thought of you hating me or something. So, yeah, I've been losing sleep over it, but I guess that kind of thing happens. It's like, you can't stop thinking about that person and they're always on your mind and they're the first thing you think about when you wake up and the last thing you think about when you go to sleep."

He's babbling already and not breathing and he stops himself to take another gasping breath; he can't stop now. He scoots a bit closer to her; Vesna looks baffled, as though she doesn't understand what he's trying to say. It doesn't surprise him. Alfred knows he isn't being very clear.

"I just... Man, I don't know how to word this. I know I act all cool and stuff but I guess even heroes can't find the right words, huh? Well, I guess this is going to sound either  _super_  lame or  _super_  cool but basically what I'm trying to say is that I want you to be the heroine – don't do drugs, kids – to my hero."

Alfred groans. That sounded so much better in his head. He sighs and glances up at a wide eyed and very red Vesna, hesitating a moment and holding out his hand to her.

"Ves, do you trust me?"

"What?" She doesn't quite recoil, but Vesna doesn't reach for his hand, either.

"Do you trust me?"

He moves his hand as though offering it again. This time, Slovenian woman slowly reaches forward and takes his hand. He sweeps her up off the couch and she nearly stumbles.

"When I say jump, then I want you to jump."

"Wait, what?"

"Just do it!"

"Wait, Alfre-"

"Jump!"

He can't tell if she's just startled by the half shout or if Vesna is genuinely curious as to what he's planning, but she jumps and he lifts her in the same moment. Vesna catches on and hooks her legs around his waist while Alfred holds her up.

The blond grins. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that maybe I'm not as awesome as Gilbert or as tall as that stupid Ivan or as buff as Ludwig or as smooth as Lovino and  _maybe_  I'm not the smartest in  _some_  subjects, but I can kick ass in science and I've never, ever,  _ever_ , loved anyone as much as I love you!"

He spins around and Vesna clings onto him. She's as red as her dyed, red velvet hair and Alfred can't help but think it's the cutest thing he's ever seen.

"That's what I've been trying to say... I'm in love with you, Vesna Danica Novak! I want you to be my partner-in-crime, the Jasmine to my Aladdin, the Rapunzel to my Flynn, the Esmeralda to my Phoebus, the Mulan to my- well, I think you get the point," and he laughs now, because it actually feels really good to get this off of his chest.

He thinks about it a lot.

Alfred halts abruptly with his spinning and Vesna looks dazed, but Alfred still wonders if she can feel the way his heart thrums like a hummingbird's wings. The American fixes his eyes on her, earnest and simply as caring as he can manage to convey.

"I love you to Pluto and back because fuck the moon and Pluto has a heart on it anyways. Did you know that you're the only one capable of stealing my breath away? From the moment I met you, I thought you were the single most beautiful person I have ever laid my eyes on. I've never felt more helpless in my life and I honestly felt like I didn't even deserve to be in your presence most of the time. You're nice, but you can be sassy and you don't take  _anyone's_  shit," he drops his gaze suddenly, because Vesna's jade isle eyes have focused on his again. "and I... I-I love that about you. I don't think words could ever stand to describe it. You could count all the stars in the universe and they'd still pale in comparison. And maybe I don't understand everything about you yet – I don't know how you met Cast and Blas, I don't know why you never talk about your family, I don't know why you dyed your hair red, or your deepest, darkest secrets, and I don't know what keeps you up at night."

Alfred lets Vesna down now, slowly. She steps back and watches him, something unreadable lurking behind her blue-green eyes.

"But I  _want_  to know those things. I want to know what makes you upset so I never do it, I want to know what brings you to tears as two A.M so I can be there for you, I want to know what kind of things you love so I can get them for you, I want to know things like your favorite movie and your favorite color and your favorite song and  _why_  those are your favorites. I want to know anything I can possibly learn about you and then some. I want to know  _Vesna_. You. I want to know you, because every time I think of you I get this bubbly feeling in my chest and it makes me want to laugh and cry and dance and run a thousand miles all at once. But mostly," he whispers, and finally tilts his head to the side and then downwards, peering at her from beneath his lashes, "it just makes me want to kiss you."

There it is. He lays his last cards out. Alfred is out of words. He takes a trembling breath.

"So maybe I'll never find the right words to describe it, but that's the reason I came here at three in the morning and used a stupid pickup line because I was so damn nervous. Because I love you."

Vesna is crying. Alarm immediately flares in Alfred's chest and his mind speeds up, reconsidering what it was already too late to take back. But then she laughs and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand.

"That's a damn good reason," she says.

Alfred smiles softly and folds her into his arms. "I love you, Vesna."

And though it's slightly muffled by his shirt, he hears her whisper, "I love you, too."

 


End file.
